


A Different Kind of Game

by faeron



Category: Breakfast with Scot (2007)
Genre: Canon couple, Eventual Smut, First Meetings, M/M, My First Fanfic, Shy, Slight Smut, Slow Burn, not yet, shower masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeron/pseuds/faeron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric McNally was injured and unable to continue playing hockey. Sam Miller is a lawyer overseeing his case and the monetary reparations to Eric. They are both gay, though Eric keeps his orientation a secret (Major league Athlete...) They meet and are attracted to each other, but they are different people. Eric is trying to figure out what do do with his life now that he can no longer play hockey. Sam recently separated from his previous partner and is trying to figure out what he wants for the future.<br/>They are finding themselves amidst losing themselves in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Injury Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic...  
> If you haven't seen Breakfast with Scot, please watch it before reading this. Most of the sports stuff, law stuff, and reporter stuff is BS.  
> I love this couple and really wanted to write a fic about how they came together.  
> yup... so, yeah...  
> enjoy!

Eric McNally crashed onto the ice in a loud thud.   
I can't breathe he thought in a momentary panic, the air had rushed out of his lungs after impact and dark spots danced across his vision. Eric's body was a jumble of sensations. A particular shard of pain cut its way across his thoughts as he attempted to roll over.   
¨My back? My shoulder?¨ he thought vaguely. The pain was like a blanket draped over him. It seemed impossible to pinpoint the actual point of origin.   
¨Fayette! I don't recall a hit on fellow teammates!¨ coaches voice crackled through the air. Eric didn't move and couldn't focus enough to hear Fayette's protestations. Coach crouched in front of him and quickly called for a medic. 

\- - - -

Wheeled out on a stretcher, Eric blearily looked around at his teammates. He caught a shared glance between Fayette and the coach and winced as he picked up their words.   
"This guy. . . Fairy. . . can't even. . . should stay down." Eric eyes burned and he stopped fighting the stars.

\- - - - 

"What do you mean I can't play anymore?" Eric leaned forward in his hospital bed and winced at the pain that flared across his torso. The Maple Leaf legal representative squinted his eyes in sympathy.   
"Exactly what I said Mr. McNally. Your contract was for the year, but it seems this injury has put you out of commission. There is no guarantee you will ever recover fully." Eric glared daggers at the floor as the man's words dropped into his stomach like heavy stones. The man sighed and reached into his briefcase.   
"I know this isn't something you want to hear, but due to the fact that the team is partially liable for the circumstances of your injury you are entitled to be compensated." HE pulled out a card and held it out to Eric.   
"This is for a guy I know who has had great success in these kinds of. . . difficulties." The man tucked the card into Eric's hand and straightened his cuff as he commented, "He can make sure you can still live your life." 

Eric opened his clenched fist after the man left. Carefully uncrumpling the card he sighed and set it on the nightstand beside his hospital bed.   
"Live my life," he muttered darkly. "what life?" 

\- - - -

Sam Miller knocked sharply on the hospital room door. He had been surprised to receive a call from the well known Eric McNally. The man seemed to ooze testosterone over the phone and Sam nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot wondering how this first meeting would go. Although informed in athletic matters who occasionally watched hockey, Sam wasn't able to easily match faces with moving forms on the ice. He braced himself for the hulking mass of hairy testosterone that surely waited beyond the door.   
"Come in," a muffled voice interrupted his thoughts and Sam shook his head to rid himself of any preconceptions concerning his new client. He opened the door and stepped into the room.   
Sam let his eyes roam around the hospital space, taking in the relative neatness and the controlled chaos of a chair covered in the half expelled contents of a well used dufflebag.   
"Hey, are you the lawyer? Miller?" the voice drew Sam's eyes to the edge of the bed where a man sat. Time seemed to slow as Sam took in the details of him. He was dressed in sweatpants and a shoulder brace. He must have recently showered, because his hair still shone with dampness and a drop of water wound its way down his neck. Time returned to its normal pace as Sam stepped forward to shake Eric's hand and introduce himself.   
"Yeah. Please, call me Sam. " he said coolly. 'My God, could this guy BE more handsome!?' he thought frantically. Eric’s clear blue eyes met Sam’s steel ones as he gestured to a nearby chair.   
“Of course. Have a seat. . .Sam.”  
After settling into the chair Sam pushed aside all of his confusing sensations about this new client and started into the important questioning pertinent to the case. 

\- - - -

Eric sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Mr. Miller, “Please call me Sam,” filed away his notes and locked his briefcase. This was bad, really bad.   
“Well Mr. McNally I think you can expect to receive a sizable compensation for your injury, both physically and in regards to your career.” Sam smiled wryly and Eric grimaced.   
“I would rather have the shoulder, if its all the same.” he replied with a bitter sigh. Eric flinched back as he felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder. The movement jerked his shoulder and Eric let out a slow hiss and found himself grabbing the offending limb.   
“Sorry,” he said as he loosened his grip. “I know you just. . . I was just. . .” Eric let out a frustrated sigh. How could he possibly express to this kind man that he was so used to avoiding touching other males it had become instinctual. He hadn’t been able to risk anyone misunderstanding his intentions. Or even properly understanding, but being revolted by him. As he attempted to articulate his thoughts Sam’s voice broke the silence.   
“Hey, Eric. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I am on your side. It’s my job.” Eric glanced up to see the fading edges of a gentle smile. Meeting Sam’s steely gaze Eric felt a thrill go through him. 'I want him to keep looking at me.' The thought formed itself and Eric shoved it into a back corner of his mind.   
“You’re a good man Sam. I’m happy you're representing me.” He remarked. Deciding to dismiss the conversation as over, Eric reached over to the bedside table and took a long sip of water. Sam’s exit was marked by the click of the closing door. 

\- - - -

'What the hell is wrong with me?' Sam thought as he typed up his notes from his meeting. His mind kept returning to his experience in the hospital with Eric. The man had clearly been dismayed at the reaction he had displayed. The thought had crossed Sam's mind that Eric knew he was gay and was displaying disgust. It was disregarded as soon as Sam had seen Eric's face. His too blue eyes had expressed alarm and fear at the situation and a measure of insecurity on how to proceed.   
Clicking save on the document labeled “McNally Injury Clause” Sam opened a new window in his browser and searched for videos under “Eric McNally.” 

\- - - -

 

Sam bit his tongue behind his smile as he held out his hand to Eric’s “friend” Nula.   
“I have been wanting to meet you for over a week.” she said enthusiastically giving his limb a firm shake. sidling a glance at Eric she added,  
“He kept putting it off. I actually knew Eric in college and love of sports brought us together. As soon as I heard about his injury I reached out to some contacts I have over in the broadcast world and I got a couple of networks to agree to a meet.” she continued, eyeing Sam. Eric took a breath to respond and was verbally mowed over as Nula continued her narrative on his shining potential as a sports reporter and commentator. Sam eyed the other man’s growing desperation as he tried to gently cut in.  
“So, are you two. . . together?” he immediately regretted the question as he saw Eric’s face freeze. Nula’s speech also stuttered to a stop as she darted glances toward Eric and ventured tentatively.  
“No. We aren’t, That is. . . he doesn’t. . .” Blue eyes narrowed at Nula as she attempted to salvage her thought. “We have only ever been friends. Believe me I am NOT his type.” she finished with an awkward laugh.   
“Oh? I would think you must date a lot; being a sports celebrity and all.” Sam cocked his head to the side, feeling like he was missing out on some crucial part of the dialogue. The truth was, he found Eric incredibly attractive. And this conversation was Sam’s way of solidifying the wall between them. He needed something solid to tell himself when the other man’s glances made his insides too light and his pants too tight.   
Eric stared at an indefinite point on the wall and gave a fake laugh. Avoiding the other man's eyes he said,   
“Ha, ha. Yeah, well. It takes more than a request for my autograph to connect with someone.” Nula jumped in to shift the topic.   
“What about you Sam? Do you have a girlfriend to match that fancy lawyer briefcase? A man as well dressed as you must have women lining up.” she commented with a wry smile. It was Sam’s turn to laugh nervously as he said honestly,  
“Oh no, not any girlfriends. No interest.” he paused for a moment and cautiously continued. “I was seeing someone, but he. . . we just wanted different things.” Eric whipped up from his staring contest with the wall.  
“You mean you--”  
“YOU’RE GAY?” Nula screeched excitedly. “That’s wonderful!” She continued shooting pointed looks to Eric who shifted uncomfortably. “I mean this, THIS, is just TOO good.” she said and started giggling uncontrollably.   
“Oh God,” Eric sighed. “Nula I think we have socialized long enough. Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” he suggested tightly. His eyes looked pointedly at the hospital room door, as if willing her to walk out of it with the force of his mind.   
Nula continued to laugh as she staggered her way to the door. Gasping out orders to call her the next day. Eric rolled his eyes and agreed, thanking her for coming to see him.   
Sam had an inkling about why Nula had laughed. The door clicked shut after her exit and he turned to Eric.   
“So. . . that was. . . should I be offended?” he asked as a nervous laugh filled the momentary silence. Eric reached his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was a habit Sam was beginning to find endearing.  
“No, Nula is just. . . She finds any romantic twist in your life and turns it into the plot of some kind of trashy romantic comedy.” he said. Sam could easily picture the woman dissecting Erics personal life and almost snorted at the thought. 'Well, I guess that means this conversation is over.' he gave a mental sigh.  
“So, I was doing some hockey research on you and I have to say, you are really good!” Sam watched Eric’s face grow melancholy as he realised his mistake. “I mean, was. . . good.” He winced as the words came out.   
“You know,” Eric said abruptly “I think I’m tired and I should. . . rest.” he said in a slow, husky voice. Sam opened his mouth, an apology on his lips.  
“Just. . . please, go.” Eric finished, his voice cracking a bit. Sam reluctantly gathered his briefcase and suppressed the urge to reach for the other man’s hand before he quietly stepped out of Eric’s room.

\- - - -


	2. Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric is getting out of the hospital. Sam is being helpful. Good times!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm assuming this takes place at least a week after the last meeting. All of my scene ideas for in between were short and not relevant for plot so I didn't put them in.   
> Just assume they have seen each other/talked on the phone about the case.

“Nula, I will ask you one more time to leave it alone. He is my lawyer. He is helping me. End of story.” Eric gripped his phone tightly, knuckles going white in frustration.   
“Eric I don’t think you understand the situation. He. Is. Perfect.” Her voice was firm and Eric could hear the eyeroll in her tone. “I don’t understand why this is a bad thing,” she sighed “you obviously find him attractive. What’s wrong with getting a bit. . . proactive?” Eric found it too easy picturing an eyebrow raising suggestively.   
“NULA!--” he lowered his voice as a nurse came by with a clip board. “Nula, we are not talking about this. Just because I’m--” he paused and scanned the hallway for listeners. “. . .gay, doesn’t mean that every other gay guy is going to want to be with me okay? That isn’t how it works.” Two electronic beeps interrupted Eric’s call and he glanced to the caller ID.   
“Listen Nula, I’m getting a call from Sam right now. It’s probably about my case, so I am going to have to let you go. How about we pick up this conversation. . . hm, the first Thursday of never?” Eric accepted the other call, effectively cutting off the woman’s biting remark.   
“This is Eric.” he said, striving for professionalism.   
“Hey Eric, it’s Sam. So the team legal representative accepted our deal and signed the payout agreement. I just need you to sign the papers, then you’ll be free and clear.”   
“Oh, yeah? That was so fast.” Eric chuckled dryly as a bittersweet ache opened in his chest.   
“You’re, uh, one hell of a lawyer, heh.” Eric wanted to slam his head into a wall. ‘Smooth McNally, not awkward at all.’ he thought to himself.   
“I heard you were getting out of the hospital today. I could pick you up? We could sign the papers, have a celebratory drink; whiskey for me, ginger ale for you.” the chuckle that came through the phone almost sounded nervous.   
“Yeah, I’m just about done. Just gathering my things.” he said, wondering who had told Sam about him getting released from the hospital.  
“Well, I’m near the hospital. I’ll pick you up.” Sam replied lightly. Eric was at a loss. He had said yes meaning to affirm that he was being released, not to agree to go “out for drinks.” There seemed to be no polite way to decline the other man’s kindness.   
“Alright, I’ll see you in five. I’ll be in my room. I might need some. . . assistance, getting my bag into the car.” he conceded. 

Minutes later Sam walked into the hospital room. He smiled at Eric as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder.   
“Hey, how about we cross our t’s over some drinks hm? I know a great place.” Sam suggested as he opened the door and waited for the other man to stand up. Eric’s mouth opened for a moment before he found words.   
“Yeah, sure.” He reached up to comb his fingers back through his hair and regretted it instantly. Wincing slightly as he readjusted his shoulder brace, he turned to Sam and asked,  
“Could you maybe, help me out?” he gestures weakly to the baseball cap sitting on the bedside table. Sam looked from the cap to Eric and met the other man’s gaze. Eric didn’t blink as the lawyer stepped into his space and reached down toward the hat. Their forearms brushed against each other and Eric suppressed a shiver. Sam kept eye contact as he positioned the cap Eric’s head and pressed down a stray lock of hair. Eric licked his lips as his mind searched for something to say. Nula had voiced plenty of scenarios to him and yet he couldn’t think any witty and/or romantic thing to say that might impress the lawyer. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he was thrown off balance when the other man took a step back and casually picked up the duffel bag Eric didn’t remember seeing him drop.   
“Let’s get you that ginger ale alright?” Sam suggested softly. He walked slowly so that the injured man could keep pace.   
The walk to the car was silent and Eric broke it as he eased himself into Sam’s black SUV.   
“This isn’t what I pictured you driving.” his dry comment was met with warm laughter as Sam clicked his seatbelt into place.   
“I know, how heterosexual of me. I don’t know. The little compact cars in powder blue never appealed to me I guess.” Eric felt a smile stretch its way across his face.  
“Huh, I just meant that it’s really nice and I have a similar car. I was surprised our tastes ran so similar.” he laughed. “I hadn’t thought about the stereotype.” There was a pause that could be described as comfortable before they started in on the pros and cons of their respective car preferences. Sam excellently multitasked driving and telling a few stories of the accidents his brother had gotten into in the family cars of their youth. (Sam, himself, having a spotless driving record.)   
Eric, who had trouble opening up with good friends let alone recent acquaintances, chose to blame the open dialogue on the pain medication pumping through his system. He was surprised when the vehicle pulled into the driveway of a modestly sized brownstone. His mild panic must have shown on his face, because he found himself meeting the serious gaze of the other man.   
“This is my house. I figured it would be easier to relax without some crazed fan trying to wring out the story of your accident.” The words were spoken cooly with no romantic or seductive undertones and Eric felt his tension ease.   
“Of course. How considerate.” He stepped out of the SUV and fought the urge to roll his shoulders. He hadn’t realized it was a habit until his broken bone had prevented him from making the action. Sam climbed several steps to the door and opened it so that the injured man could enter. After dropping his keys in a dish in the foyer Sam made his way to the kitchen and gestured for Eric to follow. He pulled out a barstool by the counter for Eric and began pulling out glasses and beverages.   
“I’m working under the assumption that the pills that keep you from screaming in agony cannot be mixed with any fun drinks.” he joked as he poured himself a glass of dark amber liquid and put ice cubes in a glass of a lighter bubbly beverage that was pushed across the counter to Eric.   
“I thought you were joking about the ginger ale.” Eric laughed. Gripping the glass with his good side he made a discomforting discovery. Lifting, even on his good side, caused a flare of pain to shoot through his chest and shoulder.   
“Ah--hm, yeah. Do you have a straw?” He asked letting his hand rest on the counter. Sam looked up from his sip to take in the beverage dilemma. He let out a thoughtful noise as he set down his glass to search several drawers and cupboards. His frown expressing his distinct lack of straw ownership.   
“Ah!” Sam’s face lit up as he walked around the counter to take the seat next to Eric. “I’ll be your arms okay?” The suggestion was made so casually that Eric found himself with no plausible reason to deny the offer. He nodded as Sam lifted the cup to his lips. The first sip was a bit difficult and involved too much cup against his teeth, but soon the pair fell into a rhythm. Sam would alternate between sipping his own beverage and helping Eric sip his own. It was an oddly intimate position and too often Eric found himself looking into the other man’s eyes. He had tried to keep his gaze on Sam’s hands, the color of his tie, even his hair. But he always found that by the end of each drink he would have his eyes locked on the others man’s gaze. Clear aquamarine matched with a dusty darker tone.   
Eric could tell that the whiskey was beginning to affect the other man. Sam was on his third glass and Eric began to wonder how this was going to play out when he needed to leave. He finished the last of his soda and quietly thanked the lawyer. Sam continued to sip his current glass of whiskey and Eric looked at his watch. It had been about two hours since they had left the hospital. Glancing up he found himself caught in another staring contest with the other man.   
“Your eyes are a lovely shade.” Sam said softly.   
“And you, are drunk.” Eric said with a small laugh. His inner Nula began berating him for brushing off the compliment and started pointing out that this evening could end very well for him. ‘Pain pills. It’s the pain pills making me think such nonsense.’   
“I mean it though,” Sam continued. “They are so clear. They remind me of. . . hold on one sec.” He stood up and did an excellent job of not staggering as he marched up the stairs. Eric wondered if he should follow, but was halted by the thought of what he would do if he somehow wound up in the other man’s bedroom. ‘Stupid, stop being stupid. He’s drunk, or at least tipsy. You’re high. This is not the best time for rational decision making.’ The thoughts rang true as he listened to scuffling on the second floor, followed by descending footsteps.   
“I found them.” Sam smiled as he sat down once more and placed a small wooden box on the counter. Eric looked at it for a moment. He couldn’t identify the wood it was made of and shrugged off the passing curiosity as he reached his good hand forward to flip open the lid. Inside were nestled two cuff links. Set in silver they were a rectangular shape with a single aquamarine nestled in each. His eyes widened as he looked at Sam’s tipsy smile.   
“Same colour.” He sighed. “I received these on a business trip to America. I had needed to buy a gift and had been admiring the colour of these in a display case. When I bought the gift, a pair of earrings for my mom, the owner included these too.” Sam let out a small laugh and Eric found himself joining in.   
“Well, thank you for showing them to me. I think I should probably be headed home though,” Eric started to close the lid on the box and found his wrist gripped by the other man.   
“Eric, we are still going to see each other even though your settlement is resolved. . . right?” Eric could feel each beat of his heart through the tactile contact of his wrist and he fought the urge to jerk away.   
“Of course Sam. We are friends, aren’t we?” he replied weakly and felt the grip on his wrist slacken. “I mean, I have only known you for a few weeks, but you. . .” He stopped himself and looked at the other man.  
“I would really like to continue our friendship.” he petered off. Sam nodded at him and released his wrist, giving it a final pat.   
“Me too,” he said softly as he palmed his eyes. “But, you should probably. . . get some rest. I don’t think I can drive you. Do you want to call someone? Or my recliner is also available. It would be easy with your shoulder.” he finished with a gesture to Eric’s brace.  
Eric debated the convenience of staying with the verbal beat down Nula was sure to give him if he called her. It was only eight thirty in the evening, but he hated to ask a favor of Nula when he could just stay and doze on the recliner.   
“I think I’ll take you up on the recliner offer.” he said, striving for casual. ‘Friends sleep on each other's couches all the time.’ he reasoned. Sam simply nodded and managed to bring some blankets down for Eric without incident. The final favor Eric had to ask was assistance with taking his pain pills before bed and he managed to sip the water with only minimal eye contact. Leaning back on the recliner he felt himself drift off to the sound of Sam humming his way up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I don't drink. I'm legal and all, I just choose not to drink. So, I did research about how long it might take someone to get tipsy when drinking whiskey. If the timing bothers you, please feel free to think of Sam as a lightweight.   
> I was really excited for intimate "sip assistance"


	3. Waking up, Pain Meds, and Ex's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric wakes up the next morning to the smell of bacon. (yum!)   
> A surprise puts Sam in a vulnerable position  
> Eric asks Sam to help him get naked.

CHAPTER THREE

The first thing Eric noticed, as he regained consciousness, was the pain in his chest and shoulder. He had definitely missed taking a dose. The second thing he noticed was the smell of bacon. His breath came out in short, pained gasps as he raised himself out if the recliner and made his way into the kitchen. ‘Why does every part of my body have to be connected to the broken part?’ he couldn’t help thinking to himself as he sat in a bar stool and cleared his throat. Eric almost dropped his tongs as he turned around and took in the other man sitting at the counter.  
“You are uncannily sneaky for an injured guy. Wait, are. . . are you okay?” Concern made a line between his eyebrows as he analyzed the injured man.   
“I missed a dose of my medication. I didn’t think to set an alarm last night so. . .” Eric’s response came out breathy as he forced a smile. Sam hastily filled glass with some water and went off to gather the small handful of pills the other man needed to start his day.   
“Do you need some. . . assistance with-” Sam reluctantly began, but Eric made no delays in cutting the other man off.   
“That would be great. Just pop the handful in.” He hissed out. Sam hastily complied and gently held the waterglass to the injured man’s lips. Eric couldn’t help but notice Sam’s left hand trailing comforting circles on the nape of his neck. They continued after the glass was back on the counter, but Eric couldn’t bring himself to call out the other man on the contact. The tactile distraction was soothing and helped keep Eric’s mind off of the pain. They sat for fifteen minutes in silence until the medication started working to dull the pain.   
“I probably should have had some food with that.” Eric gave a dry laugh. Sam jumped out of his seat and began plating some eggs and bacon.   
“Of course, I should have thought of that. At least I managed to turn off the stove when I grabbed your pills. Wouldn’t want the bacon to burn. . . aaaaand I’m rambling. Here. Food. Enjoy.” He smiled a bit nervously as he put the plate in front of Eric. “You’re okay with silverware, right?”   
“Silverware is fine.” Eric responded. He gripped the fork awkwardly in his left hand and began haphazardly stabbing at the eggs. He felt his face heat at the thought of the other man seeing his ungraceful attempts. ‘I am probably visual evidence of his mental stereotype.’ He thought to himself. ‘Some dumb jock who can’t articulate himself.’ To Sam’s credit, he let Eric’s awkward fork maneuvering pass without comment.   
As Eric reached the last of his eggs and began work on his bacon he heard a tell-tale chirp echoing from the living room. Before he could make it to the doorway Eric found himself facing Sam. Sam had sped into the other room and retrieved the device.   
“Someone named... “ He glanced at the caller ID, “Joan.” Eric winced at the name. His sister had expected him to call after his release. She was undoubtedly worried and the injured man gingerly accepted the phone and the call.   
“Yeah. Hey Joan.” he paused. “Yes, I know I said I’d call. I was with a friend.” A choking sound escaped Eric and he eyed the other man nervously. “Nula should mind her own business and not be so obsessed with my personal life. . .yeah, well,” Eric lowered his voice and Sam could no longer make out the conversation as he subtly slipped out of the room to give Eric the privacy he seemed to want. 

\----------------------------------

Sam was trying his best to hide it, but he was panicking. He vaguely remembered giving Eric the cufflinks the night before. He had hoped it had been some kind of dream, but seeing them on the end table beside the sleeping man had only confirmed Sam’s uneasy feelings. Not knowing what to do he had made breakfast and waited for the other man to awaken.  
Sam didn’t know what to make of Eric’s nonchalance. It was harder than ever to read the man when he was in pain. He wondered what “Joan” had told Eric that made him so obviously uncomfortable. A knock interrupted his thoughts and he was surprised to find none other than his ex, Joshua, standing on the front steps. 

\--------------------------------

Eric rounded the corner; having finished his call.  
“Hey Sam, so Joan said--” he stopped short as he noticed the tension in the air. Sam seemed frozen in place as he stared at the man in the doorway. He was slightly shorter than Eric and his skin was a medium olive tone. His face twisted from a small pout into a sneer as Eric came into view.   
“Wow, Sam. Two weeks and you’ve decided to screw a celebrity to get over me? Pathetic.” Eric cocked an eyebrow and let out a dry laugh as Sam opened his mouth to object.   
“Haha! Good one! I couldn’t quite hear the sound of your joke over the mental sound of my boot breaking your nose, though. But please, antagonize the hockey known for fighting. Don’t let me stop you.” Eric challenged. The stranger took a step back. He hadn’t been expecting a fight and Eric's words had thrown him.   
“I know who you are McNally,” he spat. “And I don’t remember you being gay. Maybe I should have a word with a friend of mine who works at ‘Gossip Source’ and see what he thinks about that, hmm?” Eric let the threat pass and gave the other man a withering look. He glanced to Sam who looked unsure what to say.  
“Sam are all of your exes as dumb as this one? Because, as flattered as I am over the fact he thinks I can have sex so soon after the extensive bone damage, I don’t know if I can invest much time in a friend who wants to surround himself with idiots.” He sighed for emphasis and Sam used the break to insert himself.  
“Eric is a client Joshua, not a . . . not that. Now please tell me what you want so I can get you to leave.” Joshua’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lip with a manipulative pout.   
“I just wanted to tell you that the house is half mine and I expect half the profit after you sell it.” Sam looked like he had been punched.   
“Excuse me?” He inquired breathily.   
“Sam stop.” Eric interrupted and turned his gaze to Joshua. “I’m sure he can get back to you on that. Feel free to leave.” He said curtly and shut the door.   
Sam had stumbled back into the living room and nearly collapsed on the couch. He looked pale and Eric was unsure what to do. His uneasiness tripled as tears filled the lawyer’s eyes. Eric glanced around and grabbed a few tissues and handed them to Sam as he took a seat beside him.   
“Do you want to. . . um, talk about it?” He asked and winced at the sound of his own voice. “I would offer a shoulder to cry on but mine is out of commission at the moment.” He said with a dry chuckle. Sam let out a weak laugh and rolled his eyes.  
“Thanks. Didn’t realise a non-touchy guy like you had a crying shoulder to begin with.” He sighed. Eric couldn’t hide a wince at the comment. Not knowing how to tactfully support the other man with conversation Eric sat in silence for a time. A single tear managed to escape Sam’s shining eyes, but was hastily wiped away. After twenty minutes or so Eric stood and crossed the room to his dufflebag. After a moment of searching he held up a box of chocolates triumphantly. He put them on Sam’s lap and decided to change the subject.   
“So, at the risk of sounding awkward, can you lend me a hand in the shower?” Sam’s head snapped up and Eric heard his own words echo in his mind. “That is to say, I haven’t had a real shower in a few days and I can’t get my butterfly brace off by myself.” He continued, striving to keep his tone even. Sam slowly blinked before responding in the affirmative and leading Eric up the stairs to the master bathroom.


	4. Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you need a shower and sometimes you need time ALONE in the shower. . . one guess which one Eric went with.

CHAPTER FOUR

Eric paused for a panicked moment before entering the master bathroom. Sam fiddled with the soap dispenser trying not to look like he was waiting for the other man.  
“Yeah, so it just. . . yeah,” the athlete said as he gestured vaguely towards his back. Sam stepped closer and ran his finger along one of the X shaped straps holding Eric’s shoulder and collarbone in place. He watched with interest as a muscle in the injured man’s jaw jumped and the hairs stood up on his neck. Sam then began pulling loose the velcro that held the brace against the other man. After it was safely draped over Sam’s shoulder he watched Eric let out a small sigh. ‘It must make him uncomfortable needing help from a gay man,’ he thought sadly.  
“Do you need help with your shirt too?” Eric refused to meet the other man’s gaze as he gave a curt nod and Sam reached for the edge of the shirt. He attempted to keep skin to skin contact to a minimum as he pulled the shirt up to above Eric’s pecs. ‘This guy is built like a greek statue!’ he thought nervously as he guided the uninjured arm out of the sleeve and moved onto the other side. He tried to be gentle as he slid the shirt down the injured side, but heard Eric suck the air between his teeth with a hiss. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Eric felt the hairs stand up all over his body as adrenaline coursed through his veins only broken up by brief flashes of pain in his shoulder. He tried to keep his muscles relaxed as he felt the heat of the other man next to him. He could tell Sam was trying not to touch him too much, but God, Eric wanted Sam to touch him so badly. He found himself hyper-aware of any brief contact his flesh made with the other man.  
His focus was drawn away from the tactile sensation as a small “ahem” broke the silence. Eric realized his shirt was off, and had been so for thirty seconds or so. Sam looked at him sympathetically. “Does it hurt? Do you need more pills.” Eric mentally blessed the man for his innocent assumptions about the not so innocent reactions the athlete was having. He mumbled out a negative grunt and Sam nodded as he left the room. He paused for a moment in the doorway, glancing at Eric’s pant and opened his mouth as if to ask something. But he closed it again without giving voice to his thoughts. As the latch clicked shut Eric wanted to throw his head back and raise his arms to the heavens in frustration. Knowing the pain this would cause him, he didn’t. He simply hung his head for a moment before using one arm to unzip his pants and step out of them. Taking off his boxers with one hand was a little bit tricky, but he managed. He wondered if that had been what Sam was going to ask about. He only allowed himself a brief moment to ponder what his response might have been.  
Stepping into the shower was glorious. He let the water cascade over his body for a time and reveled in the sensation of hot water soothing his aches and bruises from his injury. Deciding he should probably use this time to wash at least some part of himself he used his good arm to drizzle some shampoo onto his scalp and lathered it lazily. The smell of the product filled the air and Eric inhaled deeply as he savored the scent of Sam. He shut his eyes a he rinsed the suds away letting them wash over his body and cover him in the smell. He let his arm graze down his body and was only half surprised to find himself aroused.  
The internal debate of masturbating in his attractive lawyers shower ensued. Logical and carnal arguments were put forth and the body won out as Eric slicked his hand with the leftover soap and let his hand casually stroke himself as he closed his eyes and breathed in Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had this half done for MONTHS!!!! I really wanted to post something. I know I said I would have something up..... like forever ago.   
> hehe, I will try and work on it more. -////-


	5. Coming out.... (of the bathroom)

Sam collapsed on his bed and looked toward the door to the master bathroom. He laced his hands together and twiddled his thumbs as he listened to the uneven sound of running water hitting a solid body and splashing into the tub. Sam found himself a little too satisfied as the smell of his shampoo drifted into the bedroom. He stood to leave, but stopped near the door when he heard a small gasp. Unsure of his hearing Sam stood for a moment and listened closely. His face grew hot as he recognized the ragged breathing over the sound of water. He jolted as he heard the water turn off. Turning quickly he was unsure where to go. His mind raced as he stepped towards the bed and laid down as he had been before. He could almost hear his heartbeat thundering as he attempted to twiddle his thumbs innocently. He heard steps in the bathroom and a loud sigh before the door cracked open. “S- ahem- Sam?” Eric ventured cautiously. Sam sat up on the edge of the bed and cocked his head to the side. Eric stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Sam didn’t breathe as he kept his eyes locked on the athlete’s face. “It was easier taking my clothes off one handed than it is putting them on one handed.” Eric admitted with a humorless chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short, but I picked up and wrote more and it didn't quite sync as "the same chapter" so we have a short one, and then I will post the rest in a bit..... either today or tomorrow.


	6. Getting Dressed

Eric had given it a valiant effort. He managed to get his boxers on but for some reason denim seemed to weigh ten pounds when he tried to pull his jeans on. He realized that one good arm was not going to be enough and that he was going to need Sam’s help. Thank god he had “relieved some tension” in the shower or this would be impossible. 

Eric was unsure whether to interpret Sam’s chasteness as disinterest or an ironclad self control. The lawyer stood and kept his gaze on Eric’s face. On;y breaking for milliseconds to glance at the towel. 

“I managed the boxers myself, but I can’t do anything else.” Eric said, striving for nonchalance. This seemed to relieve the other man as he nodded and slipped by Eric to grab both the clean clothes and the dirty; depositing one pile on the bed and the other in Eric’s dufflebag (thank goodness Sam had thought to bring it into the bedroom.) 

Sam grabbed the first item on the clothing pile and Eric felt himself tighten with nervousness. It was the jeans. Sam began a new tactic of avoiding eye contact as he gently fed one foot and then the other into their respective holes and slipped the jeans up. Eric wanted to scream, he wasn’t sure whether it would be with embarrassment or sexual frustration but the energy filled his being making his chest tight and muscles tighter.

 

- - - - - - -

 

Sam couldn’t meet Eric’s eyes as he slipped the jeans up muscular calves and thighs. He was afraid of what the other man might see there and the disgust that would surely follow. Eric still had a towel draped around his hips as Sam reached the top of his thighs.

“Eric, the towel.” he said, struggling to keep his tone even. The other man jumped at the voice and seemed to relax as the most embarrassing part of the dressing neared it’s end. 

“Y-yeah.” he replied as his clenched fist loosened on the towel and it fell to the floor. Sam tried not to glance at the other man’s boxers and wonder at their contents as he brisquely pulled the jeans over Eric’s hips. He only looked twice. . . no, three times, and that was a sort of success he supposed. 

The hockey player relaxed further as Sam reached into the clean cloths and grabbed some socks. 

“You can sit down for this bit.” Sam smiled. Eric gave a dry laugh and had a seat on the edge of Sam’s bed. “Are you ticklish?” Sam asked with mock seriousness. 

“I don’t think anyone has touched my feet since I was maybe ten so…. I don’t think so?” Eric unsurely responded. Sam nodded as he slipped the other man’ socks on and had him stand once more. Grabbing the butterfly brace he gently laid all their straps in their proper place and smoothed down the velcro. Noticing Eric’s goosebumps he ventured, 

“Are you cold? I could turn up the heat.” Eric shook his head and Sam decided to ignore it. He stepped over to the wall and turned up the heat a few degrees. 

Grabbing Eric’s shirt he noticed it was a button up, and that it had french cuffs. ‘Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Does he like the gift? God, why is drunk me such a romantic IDIOT!?’ the thoughts raced as he cooly began buttoning. As he reached the top buttons near the neck he couldn’t help but breath in time with the athlete. It was soothing and oddly intimate and Sam couldn’t stop himself from imagining what had happened in the shower and what it might have been like for Sam to be there, breathing and stroking in time with the muscular man. 

Shaking his head to dispel the lingering inappropriate thoughts, he realized that there were no cufflinks for the shirt. He opened his mouth to ask Eric and found his gaze caught be the other man. His aquamarine eyes seemed to glow with a deep hunger and Sam broke the connection before he did something regrettable. 

‘You cannot kiss this man. You CANNOT kiss this man.’ he told himself as he opened his mouth to inquire about cufflinks. 

“I thought I might wear the ones you gave me.” Eric seemed to know exactly what Sam wanted to ask and Sam noted how easily the two fell into sync. “You seemed really out of it when you gave them to me, is it still okay if I keep them?” the athlete asked as he fidgeted. Sam smiled and nodded, not wanting to risk laughing at the other man’s discomfort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry about how long I have waited for these chapters. Hopefully there are still some breakfast with scot people interested in reading this.   
> probably going to fast forward in the next chapter. but only by a few hours to a days worth of time


End file.
